"I think… I think it was the cartel, Kelly. I don't know much yet, but he was… Pete… he was looking… he got that promotion…"
Kelly sniffles. "He's so proud of that."
I nod against the phone. He was. I close my eyes. "I think… I think he was looking too deep into a transaction and the… the cartel thought… he was with the feds or something…"
"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." Kelly bawls. "So it's true?"
"Yes," I sniffle. "I was there… they shot him." I don't mention the fingers on the ground. Or all the blood. Or the way his face was swollen from them beating him. She doesn't need to know that. Kelly is not like my mom. She's sweet and sensitive.
"Oh my God," Kelly repeats. "Are you okay?"
I want to say no. I want her to be here. I want her to hold me. Pete's mom has always given me more comfort than mine. But I can't. This woman has lost her son.
"I wasn't hurt." I lie. "They brought me… Pete couldn't…. he couldn't tell them what they wanted… so they thought if they brought me…"
More deep breathing, more sobs.
"Oh no!" My mother yells from the other room, just as one of her feral cats rushes by me. I really don't have the bandwidth to deal with this right now.
"Audra!" Mom yells.
"Is that your mom?" Kelly asks.
"Uh-huh," I grunt, watching one of the men who came earlier run after the cat.
"Where are you? Audra? The cops said you wouldn't talk to them…" She lets the words hang there, not quite a question. Still loaded with it, though.
"I'm…" What the hell am I supposed to say? "I'm at a friend's house." That's stretching the truth on so many levels, I feel my face heating. "He advised me not to talk to them… he?—"
"Not to talk to them? Audra! Pete was killed. My Pete! He's dead!" Kelly's voice is laced with pain.
"I know." Shit. This looks worse by the minute.
"Audra, you need to go in and talk to Detective Greenwald. He's handling the… case. He's been trying to call you."
Before I answered her call, I noticed several missed call notifications on my phone.
"I will, Kelly. I promise. I'm just… I'm just…" I don't know what I amjust. Just too messed up? Just too hurt? Just too involved in something I don't understand?
"Detective Greenwald said there were six dead men in that warehouse besides Pete." Kelly sounds sterner than I've ever heard her. "You need to talk to him. You're the only person whoknows what happened there." A pause. "Did you… Did you kill all those men?"
I swallow a snort that wants to come up at the thought of me killing several cartel members, but all I can see is the barrel of the gun pointed at me. The black hole that would have led to nothingness had Gabe not shown up. I know I'm hurting her. But I can't tell her what happened. Not until I understand it. Not until I speak with Gabe. I owe him my life. No matter what. No matter why he was there. He saved me.
"No. I didn't. I didn't kill Pete either. You have to believe me," I plead.
"You're not making it easy," Kelly responds.
Suddenly, a cold chill runs down my back. What if that detective… Greenwald? What if he's listening in? What if he put her up to calling me? No, I'm starting to act like my mother. Thinking the worst of everyone all the time. Kelly is nothing but a grieving mother. A woman who has been like a mother to me. She loved me from the first day we met. I know that. And I know her.
"I'm sorry, Kelly. I'm so sorry."
"Me too," she sobs and hangs up.
I turn my attention back to the drama unfolding right here. Right now. I hear the shrill scream of a cat as the man who ran after her comes back, holding her by the scruff of her neck as far away as possible from his body.
"Oh, please, please don't hurt Mr. Fluffball," Mom wails, wringing her hands and following the man back down the hallway, where I presume her bedroom is.
"You need to tell these men to be more careful with them." Mom stops for a moment, looking reprovingly at me.
